


Way Down

by MoonDrenchedShores



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Inspired by Hadestown, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Long-Term Relationship(s), Love at First Sight, Marriage, Near Death, Past Character Death, Post-Apocalypse, Sad Ending, True Love, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21611269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonDrenchedShores/pseuds/MoonDrenchedShores
Summary: The strife of the gods has left the world in a barren ruin. It's in this ravaged world that an idealistic young musician, Castiel, meets a cynical wandering vagrant, Meg, and they turn each other's lives upside down. As they're caught in stormy immortal whirlwinds, will their love survive? Or could it turn out to be enough to change the world that is and make it how it could be?This is a love song for anyone who tries.
Relationships: Anna Milton/Azrael, Cassie Robinson/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Meg Masters, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Any Way The Wind Blows

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This is my first fic in over a year. The primary inspiration is the concept album (and the Broadway musical) Hadestown by Anaïs Mitchell, which I highly recommend if you're not familiar with it; if not, you don't have to be familiar with it to understand the story. I've expanded on it, adding scenes and letting these different characters guide what I include, what I take out, and what I put in of my own invention, but mostly what I've set out to do here is take these characters from Supernatural and plop them into these archetypal roles, albeit in a more specific setting. And of course, it's a sad song, but we're gonna sing it anyway.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Meg had only known hardship since the day she had the misfortune of being born into this hellscape of a world.

Most of those days since had been spent watching her parents scrounge for food and shelter during harsh winters and struggle for water and shade during brutal summers, providing in whatever way they could for her and her older brother, Tom.

Then, one cold winter’s day, her father went out to forage for food buried under the snow and didn’t come home. The remaining three found his corpse being ravaged by carrion birds two days later.

The next winter, her mother went out to collect firewood. Meg and Tom found her stabbed to death and half the supply of firewood taken.

The next winter, Tom disappeared and, like Father, never came home. But Meg never found his body, either. That was when she knew she had to blow away from this tent community that called itself a town, and blow away fast, somewhere no one could find her and she would never go hungry or cold again.

She was ten years old.

For the most part, she managed that way, ditching her surname (though she would always remember that the Masters family had never raised quitters) and wandering from village to village. She’d met some kind people, and more not so kind people. But not even the kindest were enough to make her want to stay. And even the kindest seemed to be in it for their own purposes.

And that was just how the world was. People were fair-weather friends at best, and she couldn’t exactly blame them. It was a hard world. Why not do for yourself what you can to survive? Friends were only things to be lost anyway, as she had learned from watching her family die one by one until only she was left. What good had that done her?

Of course, all of that was fifteen years ago. She’d grown since then. Why worry about things she couldn’t change?

* * *

The ground was hard beneath Meg’s feet as she wandered into what remained of what appeared to be a small railroad town called Stull Junction. She only guessed it was a railroad town anyway, thanks to what remained of tracks that crossed in front of the main street.

This place wasn’t much different from the other towns she had passed through in her fifteen years wandering from place to place. There were still shops here, though the streets were empty of people. She wondered if they were really all gone, or if they were all hiding in their shelters, despite the fact that the weather was actually relatively mild today compared to the howling wind that seemed to have followed at her heels yesterday.

Or maybe it was because night was slowly beginning to fall. Perhaps there were some of those not so nice folks in this place, too, and that was what everyone was hiding from. It wouldn’t be the first time Meg had dealt with that kind.

She grimaced to herself as her feet stung with every step and her back ached every time she turned to get a better feel of her surroundings. She would have to find a place to sit or lie down for the night soon. Maybe there would be somebody kind enough to let her use their bed for a small price, give her some dinner, even. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, a crust of bread and some cheese she’d been lucky enough to fight for, and her stomach was beginning to groan its protests.

Noise to her right caught her attention and made her pause. Looking up to read the sign on the building she had almost passed up, she saw that it was simply called Gabriel’s. Figuring it couldn’t hurt—if there were people in here, then surely they were here for a reason—she pushed open the door and stepped inside. Maybe somebody here would have a match for the candle she’d scooped up last night.

Right away she was assaulted with savory smells of freshly cooked meats and beer flowing freely. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before, but she knew it from the books she’d read of what the world was like before the weather turned and abandoned spring and fall in its wake. _How do they have such wonderful-smelling things?_

“Howdy!” a voice in her ear said, and she nearly jumped, ready to fight whoever it was, but she quickly relaxed just a bit when she saw it was merely a somewhat diminutive man in a brown suit, with longish hair and eyes like the whiskey she could smell from the table nearest to her. “Haven’t seen you around. New in town?”

“Could say that,” she muttered, pulling her threadbare coat tighter around her slight frame. _Remember what you came here for._ “You got a match?”

The man whipped one right out of his jacket pocket and handed it over; Meg snatched it and quickly lit up her candle.

“You know,” he said, and she had no idea why he was continuing to converse with her (maybe he was just friendly? Yeah, right), “I can do you one better than a match.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow at him, challenging. “What’s that?”

“A table,” he said, pointing to an empty one she hadn’t noticed upon first walking in. “And a hot meal on me. You look like you haven’t eaten in a minute.”

 _Understatement._ “What’s the catch?” she asked.

“No catch,” he said, and she shook her head. Who even was this man? “Name’s Gabriel,” he said, as if in answer to her question.

Oh. Well, that explained a lot. He owned the joint.

And it was warm in here and she was starving…if he turned out to be lying, she could just dine and ditch and hit the road again, find somewhere to sleep.

“Sure,” she said. “Okay.”

And she carried her candle down to the table, taking care that it didn’t blow out.

No sooner had she sat down did Gabriel return to her, bearing a tray full of the most delicious cuts and vegetables Meg had ever laid eyes on, though to be fair the bar wasn’t exactly set very high. It still made her mouth water and her eyes widen. She didn’t even remember to thank him, instead immediately digging in.

Gods, who cooked this? Obviously the cook, but this kind of food simply didn’t exist anymore. The poor soil that came from the weather turning had made sure of that, or so the stories went.

Catch or no catch, she thought, this was worth it.

* * *

Castiel had never seen anyone more beautiful.

Granted, he didn’t tend to take too much notice of other people in general. Of course he liked everyone who frequented the tavern, just as they liked him and his music. But the dark-haired girl with equally dark eyes who had just walked in made his entire system go haywire, and it was as if the only things that existed in this moment were him and her, and the former was only barely.

He had to make something for her, he decided at once. She seemed so…lonely. And he could understand that. He, too, had been alone for much of his life, other than Gabriel’s company. Even now he was what he’d heard others call “alone in a crowd.” Though he’d been very lucky to end up here, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything, he also knew that look of trepidation when around other people that was as clear on this girl’s face as it would be if it had been stamped on her forehead.

There had to be something that he could do to remedy that, even if he couldn’t quite understand the compulsion he felt to do so. All he knew was that when he felt the urge to make any kind of art for any reason, he had to follow through. Gabriel always said that it was because his mother had been a muse, and it was simply in Castiel’s nature to want to make beautiful things. Castiel didn’t remember enough about his mother to deduce whether that was actually correct, but he was satisfied in taking Gabriel’s word for it.

Speaking of his guardian, Castiel didn’t realize just how intently he had been twisting this scrap of paper into a flower with his deft fingers until he felt Gabriel gently tap him on the shoulder. His face burned red hot, and he dropped his gaze from Gabriel’s face to the floor, but that didn’t keep Gabriel from figuring out exactly what was going on. Castiel shouldn’t have expected anything different. He was, after all, a messenger god and communicator.

“Sorry,” Castiel mumbled, putting down the flower and immediately reaching for something else to do with his hands, settling on polishing a glass that didn’t really need polishing.

“No need to apologize. Just couldn’t help but notice you mooning,” Gabriel said. “You’re lucky the bar’s mostly cleared out for now. But I also couldn’t help but wonder something.” He propped up his elbow on the bar top. “She _is_ pretty. And I’ve never seen you actually notice that in a girl. Or anybody, for that matter. So… You wanna talk to her?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes…”

Gabriel gestured to the girl sitting alone at the table. “Well, go on, then. But Cas…”

“Yes?” Castiel was already making his way out from behind the bar, paper flower clutched tightly in his hand. It hadn’t occurred to him that Gabriel would have anything else to say on the matter, and frankly, he was getting a tiny bit impatient, though he tried not to let it show. Why couldn’t he just go and talk to the girl, like Gabriel had just encouraged him to?

A fond shake of the head was the initial response. Then Gabriel said, “Don’t come on too strong.”

Oh. Yes. That was important.

* * *

Meg was sure this was the meal that she would dream about when she fell asleep at night for years to come. Every bite had been an overload of flavor, kicking her brain into overdrive, giving her every nuance of happiness that she thought she had forgotten long ago. What was in this stuff? Ambrosia? That was impossible, unless, of course, the tavern had an in with a god.

But everyone knew the gods had left the meager mortals of this world behind.

Downing her second glass of water and moving on to the beer which gave her a curiously pleasant, warm, tingly sensation in her belly when it landed, she took a good look around the room. Everyone here did seem to be how she’d felt when eating this food—truly happy. How on earth could that be, when the world outside had gone to such complete shit?

Well, having tasted this, she guessed she could see how. _Gabriel’s, you are a real blessing,_ she thought, then shook her head with a wry laugh under her breath.

Glancing around once again, something shiny caught her eye. Secured to a metal stand just beside the bar (that had been the shiny thing) was a guitar. If it hadn’t been for that stand, she wouldn’t have even noticed it. The wood was stained in ebony black all over, apart from the very center of the body, which faded into a gradient of a brilliant, cyan blue. She had to admit, she was impressed. The food was one thing, but how had this place gotten a hold of _that_? And who around here even played it?

The sound of footsteps coming her way took her out of her ruminations over the guitar. She half expected to see Gabriel striding over to see how she had enjoyed her meal, perhaps to reassure her yet again that there was no catch to this. Instead, the man—no, the boy, for he couldn’t be much older than her—headed her way was a good deal taller. An apron covered his worn black pants and equally tired-looking white button-up which he wore rolled up to his elbows, and she realized he worked here.

Then she raised her gaze to his face. He had a sunned complexion, and his youthful features were topped off with a head of messy, dark hair. It was his eyes that really grabbed her, though, stormy blue and positively penetrating. He was cute. No, scratch that; he was _gorgeous_.

Maybe she could chat this guy up, she thought. If he worked here, she could work her charms on him, maybe get herself a place to stay for the night.

All of that was thrown right out of her mind the instant he held up what looked like a lovingly crafted paper flower and opened his mouth; his voice would have been pretty sexy if it weren’t for the four little words he uttered.

“Come home with me.”


	2. Wedding Song

The blank expression on the girl’s face, followed by obvious confusion, was not the reaction Castiel had wanted or anticipated. Nor was her actual reply.

“Who are you?” she asked, her left eyebrow arched. Her dark eyes met his, and his system went haywire again.

“The man who’s gonna marry you,” he blurted before he could stop himself, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gabriel, who had apparently followed him to the girl’s table, pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. Change tactics, and fast. But how to do that? “I’m Castiel.”

That didn’t seem to give her less of an inclination to look at him like he’d lost his mind, but now a small smile played at the corner of her mouth, as though she were trying to suppress it. She noticed Gabriel, too, for she glanced at him. “Is he always like this?”

Gabriel heaved a weary sigh. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Castiel shot him a glare.

However, the girl just chuckled, and Castiel thought that sound might very well put a spell on him. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, and when she stood up from her table, she was actually a little bit taller than he had expected, though he supposed that had to do with how small her frame was. Still, she came close enough that he thought he could tell he hadn’t completely overstepped his bounds, and when she extended her hand to his, he let himself breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m Megaera,” she went on, giving his hand a firm shake but not letting go. “Yeah, I know. Just like the Fury. My dad thought he was being hilarious. But most people call me Meg, when they know what to call me at all.”

“Megaera,” Castiel repeated, and he found himself mirroring that small smile she wore so well on her round face. “Meg.” The cogs in his mind started turning, composing a tune that only he could hear, and he couldn’t help himself but to be extremely candid with her once again. “Your name’s like a melody. Or a poem. Uh…sorry.” Suddenly sheepish, he let go of her hand, trying not to think about how paradoxically smooth her skin was compared to the prickling he could sense lurking just beneath the surface.

She was only clearly amused. “So, what? You’re some kind of a singer? A poet?”

He blinked, and then he nodded. “A bit of both. I also play the guitar.”

Her eyes traveled somewhere over Castiel’s shoulder, and he followed her gaze to see it had landed on the guitar he kept on its stand by the bar. When he turned back to look at her, she opened her mouth, then closed it again.

When she did speak, it was a remark he’d never thought would be directed at him. “Oh, so you’re a player, too?” Her smile morphed into a smirk, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve met too many men like you.”

“Oh—no,” Castiel stammered, but he got the impression too late that was what she was angling for. “I’m not like that.”

“He’s not like any man you’ve met.” Gabriel had stepped in, grabbing both Meg and Castiel’s attention. “Why don’t you tell her what you’re working on with that guitar of yours, Cassie?”

Castiel winced at the nickname, but he took the prompting anyway. “I’m working on a song,” he said, looking back at Meg. “It’s not finished yet, so no one’s heard it except me. But when it is finished—and when I sing it—spring will come again.”

Now it was her turn to blink. “Come again?”

“Spring will come,” he repeated, and now that he was describing his intentions to someone other than Gabriel, he realized how ridiculous it sounded. But he also felt more conviction to make it happen.

“When?” she asked, her brow crooked again. He was finding he liked that expression on her. “I haven’t seen a spring _or_ fall since…I can’t even remember.”

“Well…” Maybe, just maybe, she really would be interested in hearing what he had to say next. He took a step forward. “That’s what I’m working on, really. A song to fix what’s wrong. Fix what’s broken. It’ll be so beautiful that it’ll bring the world back into tune, like it was in the time before all of this. And all the flowers will bloom…” He remembered all at once what he’d come over here for in the first place, and so he decided to get back on track. “…when you become my wife.”

“ _Oh._ ” She’d stepped back from him again, leaning against her table, but she wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she was looking at Gabriel. “I get it. He’s _crazy_. Why would I become his wife?”

It wasn’t the first time Castiel had heard someone call him crazy. But it was the first time it had bothered him.

Gabriel, for his part, stuck up for him. “I dunno. Maybe because he has a funny way of making you feel alive.”

“Alive, huh?” She narrowed her eyes at Castiel again. “I guess that’s worth something. But what else have you got?”

She stepped even closer, until her face was mere inches from his, and he felt his heartbeat quicken in his chest. Did she know she’d had this effect on him from the moment she walked into the tavern? Was that why she was doing this?

“Tell me…” Her voice was a purr, and when Castiel chanced a glance around, he saw Gabriel was gone. It was just them. And those still left in the tavern at this hour, but they were few. “If we get married, who’s gonna buy our wedding bands? What with times being as hard as they are and all.”

“The wedding bands…” He shut his eyes, thinking deeply, picturing it in his mind. “When I sing my song, the rivers will sing along, too. And they’ll churn up the gold at the bottom of the riverbeds, and that’s where we’ll get the wedding bands.”

When he opened his eyes, he saw she had pursed her lips as if in thought. He tried not to stare too long at that. She made that task easy, as she began circling him.

“And the wedding table?” she asked. “Who’s gonna lay that? Times being as dark as they are.”

“When I sing my song,” he began again, feeling more sure about his answer this time, “the trees will sing along, like the rivers. And they’ll give us their fruit, and we’ll have our wedding feast.”

He felt something along his side, and he realized that Meg had laid her hand there as she circled back around to his front. But he didn’t push her off, no matter how that touch burned, because it was a pleasant sort of scalding.

And, he noticed too late, she had snatched the paper flower from his hand and stuck it in the pocket of her leather coat.

“So…when you sing your song,” she echoed with a cheeky grin, “the one you’re working on, spring will come again.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Her hand left his side. “Then why don’t you sing it?”

His heart fell from his throat to his chest. Had she been listening to him at all? “I told you, it’s not finished.”

She didn’t care, instead fixing him with a game stare. “Sing it.”

He remained silent.

With a roll of her eyes, she sauntered away from him. He could only watch the sway of her hips and how her whole body connected to that movement, and it made him shiver. “You really wanna take me home?” she asked.

He realized she was teasing him, but he didn’t care. He would give her the honest answer anyway. “Yes. I do.”

And he knew what her retort would be, but he didn’t stop her from making it. “Sing the song.”

Castiel heaved a sigh. He was about to make a fool of himself, he was certain. The song truly was not finished at all. He hadn’t even put words to it yet. All he had was the melody, and even that wasn’t work he had put into it; it had just come to him one day, and he had committed it to memory. But she had told him to sing the song. And for whatever reason, he didn’t mind making a fool of himself in front of her. In any case, she had asked for it.

Closing his eyes once again, he began to hum that melody, ancient and deep but still somehow full of light. And then he began to sing it, full and clear, and it was as if the entire tavern joined in to sing it with him. Maybe they had, or maybe it was just the power of the song. All he knew was that this time was different from the last time he had sung it to himself.

This time, the notes caught fire in his chest and burned like a steady ember, and that ember spread out into his hands that he had clasped together when he fell to his knees like a supplicant.

When he opened his eyes, those hands were no longer empty. Instead, they were grasping a wild rose, huge and red as blood, and his eyes went wide.

He looked up and found Meg had knelt before him, too, and her eyes were also wide as they fell on the flower. “How’d you do that?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” he replied just as quietly. “But like I said, the song’s not finished.”

“I know,” she said. “But still, it can do _this_?” Gingerly, her fingers caressed the petals, and without a moment’s hesitation, he pressed the flower into her hand. At last, she looked up and locked onto his gaze, and a genuine smile was on her lips. “You have to finish it!”

“That is the plan,” he said somewhat dryly, but he shyly, smiled, too, even as she pulled him back to his feet. The hand that wasn’t holding the rose held onto his tightly.

“So, when we’re wed, who’s going to make the wedding bed? Times being…”

“…as hard as they are,” he finished for her, giddiness he’d never known before filling his chest. “When I sing my song, the birds will sing along, too, and they’ll give us their feathers and their down to lie on. So the birds will make the wedding bed.”

“And the trees will lay the table…” she said, still smiling in that way that made his heart leap back up into his throat.

“And the rivers will give us the wedding bands,” he said.

She bit her lip, and he knew he was done for.

* * *

Gabriel hadn’t been kidding when he said Castiel was unlike any man Meg had ever met. She just hadn’t expected that to mean that he had magical siren powers or whatever and could make flowers spontaneously grow with his voice. But somehow, she wasn’t surprised by that, either.

What she was surprised by was the way he stared at her, and the fact that she actually liked it.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be your wife.”

The owlish way he blinked was cuter than she was willing to admit. “You will?”

“Mmhmm.” She had to be as crazy as him for this. There was no other explanation. But he did seem sweet, and he was definitely adorable. And there were worse men and women out there she could agree to spend the rest of her life with. At least this one apparently had a home to take her back to and a voice for the gods. Still, she could be a little more sane about this. “But in the summer. So you can work on your song.”

“In the summer,” he repeated with a nod. “Okay. That sounds reasonable.”

None of this was reasonable. But that included the flower she now held in her hand. Reason was out the window. “Now, you said you’d take me home…where is ‘home’?”

“Oh.” As if he had only just remembered that, he sprang back to life, back to this reality, and he gestured to the little door she could see at the top of a flight of stairs. “It’s here. The apartment. Gabriel used to live there, but he spends a lot of time at the railroad station, so he’s settled in there and left me this place.”

“Really?” It didn’t seem like a bad setup at all, when Meg thought about it, but then again the end of winter was drawing near and that was probably why this place was so well-supplied…but he had that magic voice. And he really seemed to like her.

She had to quit waffling back and forth about this. She’d already said she’d be his wife.

“When are we gonna head up?” she asked. “After your shift, I guess?”

“If you want,” he said. “Or I could give you the key and you could go ahead…”

Ordinarily, that would have been fine with her. She might have even taken the opportunity to scope the place out, see if there was anything of value she could squirrel away if she had to hit the road again. But…

“Nah.” She shrugged. “If you don’t mind me hanging out behind the bar, I think I’ll stay with you.”

That answer made his face light up. “Okay. Just follow me.”

And so she followed him back behind the bar. When she looked back at her table, she saw that all the dishes had been cleared away in a split second.

Gods, this place was weird. Castiel was weirder still. But she liked it, and the more she watched him work behind the bar, she found she liked him.

After an hour or so the last of the stragglers made their way out, bidding Castiel farewell. Gabriel reemerged from wherever he’d disappeared to in order to remind Castiel to close up shop for the night, and Meg thought she heard something about how they’d need to have a talk tomorrow when Castiel was alone. Also very weird. She’d accept it for now.

Now it was only the two of them.

* * *

Castiel was quiet as he led Meg back up to the apartment Gabriel had given him. It had been a long night, after all, and he was still processing the fact that she had actually agreed to come home with him. To be his wife come summer. Speaking would slow that process considerably.

In fact, he didn’t talk at all until they entered the small accommodation and Meg cleared her throat. “So…this is actually not a bad place.”

“It’s not?” he asked. It really wasn’t much, he knew. Just a small kitchen and a nook that acted as both bedroom and a place where he could compose his songs and poems. But she sounded genuinely impressed.

“Yeah,” she said. “See, I grew up in a tent, so having an actual roof…an actual bed…” She turned on her heel to face him, and all at once she was very close to him again. “I think I owe you.”

He shook his head, his brow furrowed. “No, you don’t owe me anything.”

“Sure I do…” She was on her tiptoes now, her lips parted slightly, invitingly, and it hit him just what she was trying to do.

Reluctantly, he stepped back.

She was silent. And then: “Hey, what gives? You ask a girl to come home with you and…?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said, perhaps a little too quickly. “It’s more just that…I’ve never…”

“You’ve never…what?” she asked, though she did respect the distance this time. “Shared your bed, or kissed a girl?”

“Either one of those,” he admitted. “I hope that’s not…I mean, I understand if you wish to leave.”

“No! It’s fine,” she said, and this time he had the impression she might have been speaking too quickly. She placed her hand on his forearm, and he focused on that. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re a weird guy, Cas. But it’s actually…kinda refreshing. And I’m a big girl. I can be patient. But I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor.”

Castiel chuckled under his breath and met her eyes again. “I think that’s a good first step to take.”

“One day at a time?” she said with that charming smirk.

He nodded once. “One day at a time.”

“Good.” Swiftly, almost impishly, she stood on her tiptoes again and pressed her lips to his cheek. Then, before he could ask any questions, she flitted off to the bed.

This was going to be an interesting marriage, for certain.


	3. Melody

While it was true that this place wasn’t much, as Castiel had told Meg when he brought her up here, it did have a fairly sizable window which always allowed the sun to shine in brightly when the dawn broke, casting its rays and bringing to light the dust motes floating in the air like tiny spirits of the air. It was the only time of day the sun shone during the winter.

And it was on this side of the bed that Meg had fallen asleep. When those rays fell on her closed eyes, she grunted and rolled over, her brow knit irritably. But there was no denying it now; she was awake, and she wasn’t going back to sleep.

At least she’d managed to sleep a whole night through for the first time since…she didn’t think she could remember the last time she had.

When at last she brought herself to open her eyes, she was met with the sight of Castiel sitting on the edge of the bed’s other side, his back to her, bent over…something. She was too groggy to think of what it might be.

“I take it you’re a morning person?” she mumbled, pushing the leather coat she’d used as a blanket out of the way and sitting up before slipping it back on over her thin purple dress. It was still drafty in here, after all.

“Oh.” He jumped a bit, as if startled, and glanced over his shoulder at her. “I…I didn’t know you were awake.” Whatever he was working on, he reached down and slid it under the bed.

“Just now I am.” She tried and failed to suppress a yawn. “But I definitely am gonna need coffee after sleeping for so long. You got any in this joint?”

“We do.” He stood, facing her now, rubbing his hands down the front of his pants and buttoning up a few shirt buttons he had apparently undone to get comfortable. “Do you want me to go get you some? I have to get the pot started anyway.”

She tried not to dwell too long on just how lean but still solid he seemed to be based on that brief flash of his chest. Instead, she nodded. “That’d be awfully nice…”

He smiled that small, shy smile of his, and from the way his legs moved, she guessed he was sliding into his shoes. “Okay. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

And then he was out the door like a gust of wind had carried him away.

The instant she was alone, Meg knew precisely what she wanted to do next. She also knew she definitely shouldn’t, but he said he’d be back in a few minutes, and he didn’t have to know…

Scrambling off the bed, still squinting against the sunlight, she ran over to the other side of the bed, knelt down, and pulled out the scrap of paper that Castiel had been working on so intently.

_Small of body but big of life_

_Darting around, killing my strife_

_Her dark eyes burn like the flames_

_And now nothing will be the same_

_Sharpest thorns prick when I get close_

_But buoy her up and keep her afloat_

_An enigma she is, I know_

_Still I hope that will never go_

Meg had never been much one for poetry. But something about this piece—half-finished or not—touched her in a way that she had never allowed anything to affect her until last night when she heard Castiel sing that song. The fact that this poem or song was almost certainly about her was only the tip of this iceberg.

Glancing to the door and listening to make sure he wasn’t coming back just yet, she carefully put that paper back where she’d found it and willed herself to forget all about it, shifting her priorities to doing something about her rat’s nest of dark hair. If she was going to marry this guy, she didn’t want him to think she didn’t care, after all.

And…maybe she was beginning to care.

 _What a weird guy,_ she thought.

* * *

When Castiel heard footsteps light as a feather as he brewed Meg’s coffee, he knew exactly who had turned up. Only one person could come into the tavern before he’d even had a chance to unlock the doors, after all.

“Morning, Cassie,” said Gabriel, leaning casually against the bar top.

Castiel inclined his head toward him and gave him a polite, “Morning, Gabriel,” before returning to his task.

“I take it the girl stayed?” his guardian went on, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit of self-satisfaction.

“Yes,” he replied. “I’m getting her coffee now, and when I get back upstairs I’m making her breakfast.”

Gabriel nodded, apparently impressed. “You’re a real class act. But I gotta say, that’s not why I’m really here.”

“I figured as much,” Castiel sighed, finally turning around to fully face the other. “This is about the song, isn’t it?”

Gabriel nodded again, grinning, before his posture straightened and his expression grew somber. “Where _did_ you hear that melody?”

Castiel shrugged, feeling rather put on the spot even though he’d known this conversation was coming since the night before. “I don’t really know,” he confessed. “It just sort of…came to me. It was like I’d heard it before.”

Gabriel’s smile returned, but there was a twinge of something other than mirth in it. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you have, considering who your mom was. You’ve always had a thing about just sort of _knowing_ the music of the universe. What you sang last night was older than almost any other tune. A love song from a long time ago. Seems like it’s been just about as long since the last time I heard it.”

Immediately, Castiel felt his interest piqued, and he knew this wouldn’t be a brief discussion. “You’ve…heard it before?”

“Oh, yeah,” Gabriel said, and his eyes were faraway. “A pair of gods used to sing it. Anna and Azrael. You remember when I told you about their love that made the world turn?”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. Of course he knew that story. And he knew Anna, who always blew into Stull Junction when it was time for summer. “Yeah, I remember. But I don’t know why I’d know that tune still, or what it has to do with the song I’m writing to put the world back in order, since it was so long ago.”

“Hmm…” And Gabriel sat down at one of the barstools.

Before he could say anything else, there was a series of loud knocks on the door of the tavern. With a dramatic roll of the messenger’s eyes, they blew open, and in strode a pair of young men. Both were tall, but one noticeably more so than the other, and this taller one also had longer hair. Both also wore threadbare clothes and beat-up shoes, and despite their wiry frames, they moved with energy that only young brothers could have.

“Cas!” called out the shorter one.

“Dean,” Castiel replied, and then looked to the taller (but younger) brother. “Sam.”

“Hey, boys,” Gabriel said as the pair took barstools just a little ways down from him. “You’re just in time. I was just about to have Cassie sing us a song.”

“Which one?” Sam asked, looking at Castiel with a kind of expectation that he knew meant he wouldn’t be able to refuse this request.

“Anna and Azrael,” said Gabriel. “An oldie but a goodie. Go ahead. Meg won’t miss you for one more minute.”

Dean, with a scoundrel’s grin, waggled his eyebrows at Castiel. “Meg, huh? You finally manage to score?”

Castiel’s face flushed, and he busied himself with fetching his guitar from its stand and adjusting the strap around his torso. “I did not ‘score,’” he said at last. “But she did agree to marry me.”

When he turned around, he saw Gabriel giving Dean a look that seemed to halt any other questions his friend might have had. In any case, everyone tended to hush when Castiel was about to sing, and this time was no different, despite how scarce the audience was.

But he would need more space to feel this song, so he moved out from behind the bar, standing instead in the middle of the dining room. Only then did he begin to pluck the strings of his beloved instrument, feeling the magic that came from music as it began to course through his veins. The song was only a natural progression of that magic, second nature, as was the story.

“ _Ruler of darkness_

_And of all the night_

_Azrael was king of the land of the dead_

_But he fell in love with a woman of light_

_Whose realm was above, in the land of life_

_He fell in love with the Lady Anna_

_Who danced with the trees, and with the sun_

_And he took her home to rule at his side_

_Where the light would never_

_Find anyone…_ ”

The scene was so vivid in his mind that he almost lost himself to it. A gesture from Gabriel urged him to continue.

“ _And she loved him and the land that they ruled_

_But without her above, all life would wither_

_And so they agreed that for six months of the year_

_She’d remain the queen there, in the world below_

_But for the other half, she would walk among us_

_And the world grew warm for its love of her_

_Which is why the seasons came to be_

_And with them, the circle_

_Of the sapling and willow_

_And the birds and their fledglings_

_And all the people’s lives…_ ”

“Singing…?” Gabriel prompted, and Castiel closed his eyes and began to sing that long-ago melody that had no words yet contained all the love in the world.

This time, there was no flower that appeared from nowhere, but Castiel could feel that warmth all the same.

When he was finished, Gabriel sighed, “And in both the worlds, the gods sang that love song and the whole universe sang it with them. But like I said…that was a long time ago.”

Dean and Sam both looked just as taken in by that song, and they shook their heads when it became clear it was over.

A creak from the top of the stairs caught Castiel’s attention, and he spotted the slim figure of Meg standing just outside the door of the apartment, the same sort of entranced look on her face even though he had stopped singing. The boys and Gabriel noticed, too, and while Dean once again got that rascally expression, Castiel didn’t even notice.

“I was starting to wonder when my coffee was coming,” Meg said, descending the stairs, her leather coat wrapped securely around her. “Didn’t realize you were giving a concert.”

“I wasn’t,” he said plainly. “Gabriel wanted me to tell an old story. I’m still not sure why it’s relevant.” And then, realizing he needed to make all of this clear, he quickly added… _something_ or other: “Meg, this is Sam and Dean. My friends. They frequent this place whenever they’re in Stull Junction. Sam and Dean, this is Meg. She’s my fiancée. She arrived last night.”

“Fiancée?” Sam asked, clearly perplexed, while Dean exclaimed, “Last night?!”

“Long story,” Meg said, taking the mug of coffee Castiel had just laid on the counter for her. “But I blew in, found this joint, figured out your friend here’s cute and has a hell of a voice, and agreed to marry him. Actually it’s not that long a story.”

Dean almost looked affronted by how blasé she was about the whole thing and toward him and his brother, but Sam appeared to be a little impressed. “So…when’s the big day?”

“We’re still working that out,” Meg replied breezily, shooting Castiel a cheeky wink. “Aren’t we, Cas?”

“I…uh…” Castiel was formulating a response to her familiar air around him, which he was beginning to discover he really did like very much, but then he noticed Gabriel with that faraway look on his face again; without so much as a witty aside, he had gotten up and headed out the door.

Soon enough, he got his answer to the question he hadn’t even known he had in his mind.

Gabriel returned to the tavern, that wide grin stretching his lips and that wild gleam in his eyes.

Castiel didn’t need to ask, but he wanted to hear it anyway. “Is it…?”

Gabriel looked ready to fly off the floor there and then. “Oh, yeah. _She’s_ coming.”


	4. Up On Top

_She_ was coming. With those simple words, even with only five people in the tavern, it was as if the whole building had come to life.

“She’s coming!” shouted Dean and Sam in unison, shooting up from their stools and wrapping each other in a brotherly embrace before separating and whooping and hollering their joy.

Gabriel had immediately started straightening up, though there wasn’t much to do, and Castiel knew that with the sheer power he hid under his modest façade, this place could be spotless in seconds.

When he met Meg’s eyes, he realized that he was beaming, himself, but he didn’t bother trying to subdue it. The best time of year was just around the corner, and this would be the first time he’d ever even considered sharing it with someone like this.

But Meg, for her part, had knit her brow, though she wore a vague smile upon her lips. “Who’s coming?”

“My sister,” Gabriel answered before Castiel could begin to explain. “Anna. She comes every year, brings all sorts of goodies with her. Always kicks off the summer with a huge party. It’s a real riot. You should be Cassie’s plus-one this year.”

“Anna?” Meg asked, and Castiel found himself wanting to step in again, but not sure how exactly to tell _this_ particular long story. “Anna who?”

“You kidding?” Dean shook his head. “Cas was literally just singing about her.”

“You sure you’re not the one kidding?” Meg retorted at once. “That Anna wouldn’t come _here_. The gods abandoned us all years and years ago.”

Oh, dear. This wasn’t going to be received well. But somehow, Castiel knew that he would jump to Meg’s defense should her insolence get her in trouble with the only god who was actually in the room. It might have been rash. Foolish. But there was something about her, something about the way his heart thrummed like an overlarge hummingbird in his chest whenever he looked at her, that told her he may not actually have a choice in the matter but to do so.

Truthfully, it was terrifying. But he was willing to face that terror head-on as long as it was with her.

Luckily for them, Gabriel wasn’t one to take personal slight, at least not against his kind. Instead he just kept tidying up, only pausing now and then to glance in Meg’s direction. “Well, sweets, one’s talking to you right now.”

For the third time since Castiel had met her last night, Meg looked like she was the one who was on unfamiliar ground. But she squared herself again just as quickly as those other times, got back on an even keel, and he couldn’t help but to admire that. “So, when you introduced yourself as Gabriel last night…you’re _that_ Gabriel? The messenger?”

“And the psychopomp,” Gabriel added, leaning against a table, his arms crossed over his chest which was puffed up ever so slightly. “Yeah. I’m that one. And I’m not the only special one here.”

When he, Sam, and Dean all looked at him, Castiel felt the sudden urge to retreat back upstairs. However, he also felt glued to the spot. “I…I don’t…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think we have to get into the specifics just now…”

“His mom’s…” Dean began before Sam elbowed him in the ribs.

“Dude,” Sam said reproachfully. “Not just now.”

Meg, sipping on her coffee, was looking a little more like she had when they met last night—suspicious—and for that, Castiel would have to have words with Gabriel. For now, he would focus on the good that was coming their way. “How long do we have until she arrives here?”

“Three days, tops,” Gabriel said, still watching him and Meg, and Castiel truly hoped he was being as forgiving of Meg’s words as he seemed to be. “So we’ve got a little time to prep. Gather supplies, pull together what we can for our first shindig of the season. You four can go out and do that for me, since we don’t officially open our doors until noon.” When none of them moved, he waved his hands. “Go on, get outta here. Have a little fun. Or as much fun as you can with this weather.”

Meg, not seeming to want to quarrel with a god now that she knew what he was, chugged the rest of her coffee and set down the mug, then rather decisively grabbed Castiel’s hand and dragged him out the door. He didn’t even have time to begin to react.

“Are you serious?” she hissed as soon as they were out the door. “You work for a _god_ and you didn’t tell me?”

“It didn’t come up,” he said, befuddled, tilting his head slightly to one side. “But I don’t just work for him. He raised me.”

Her full lips set into a hard line, and she crossed her arms, staring at him hard. He’d never felt so carefully scrutinized. Nervous, he fidgeted. After a long moment, she sighed. “You know, if we’re gonna be married, you’re gonna have to get used to telling me things like that. Even if they don’t necessarily ‘come up.’ Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

They were joined by Sam and Dean then, who immediately set off down the street. “Come on. We gotta go tell the ladies.”

“The ladies?” Meg asked as she and Castiel followed, and he knew he’d better explain right away.

“Cassie and Eileen,” he said. “Sam and Dean’s lovers. They live here in town, but Sam and Dean only come in when it’s time for summer.”

“Drifters?” She raised an eyebrow, and his heart fluttered again.

“Something like that.”

* * *

Cassie and Eileen, Meg found, resided in the same building down the road from the tavern. And obviously they were quite close, for they were hanging on each other’s arms when they opened the door and let the crew inside the meager loft. Cassie broke off from Eileen and attached herself to Dean at once, while Eileen and Sam stood close together but didn’t get all up in each other’s business. When Meg spotted them communicating with hand signs, she understood why.

She also understood she was apparently the topic of their conversation when Eileen waved to her and started signing. Thrown for a loop, Meg just stood there awkwardly until Sam realized what was happening.

“Meg,” he said, “This is Eileen. She says that it’s nice to meet Cas’ wife-to-be.”

“Wife-to-be?” Cassie asked, breaking away from Dean, and it was only now that Meg turned around that she saw Castiel had stayed a respectful distance from the proceedings. How long had this guy been a third wheel? “Nice. You know, you could do a lot worse than a muse’s son. But you do want to watch yourself. If you hurt him, these boys will be the least of your worries.”

“She won’t hurt me,” Castiel said at the same time Meg asked, “Muse’s son?” and whirled on him.

“Seriously?” Cassie groaned. “You didn’t tell her?”

“I was sort of waiting for the right time,” Castiel grumbled, and despite herself and her remaining annoyance at the apparent mystery that he was, Meg smiled.

“Well, now’s as good a time as any,” she said. “Though you probably should give these ladies your other news first.”

“What other news?” Cassie asked, looking to Dean expectantly.

“Well…” Dean took a dramatic pause, ambling about the space to the one window, his demeanor quite serious. “Gabriel told us something. Something that we all ought to know. Something that could change the course of the year for better or worse…” He faced the group. “Anna is coming.”

Meg had never seen such excitement in such a small group of people. Cassie and Eileen embraced each other, joyful sounds spilling from both their lips. And somehow in a whirlwind the two women decided Sam and Dean had to take them back to the tavern to celebrate the goddess of summer’s imminent arrival, and they were headed back out again, and Meg wasn’t sure just what to make of any of it. She’d never witnessed anything quite like this before—people who actually liked each other who weren’t related. For unless genetics had gotten weird, these two were certainly not related, if Cassie’s wildly curly black hair and dark skin compared to Eileen’s milky complexion and straight hair were any indication. And all of it was massively weird to her.

Of course, the entire town of Stull Junction had thus far proven to be massively weird, so people being kind and having friends was just par for the course.

Castiel seemed almost as lost as Meg felt, though, and perhaps this was how they fell to the back of the group as they made their way through town back to the tavern. This would surely be a long walk back, but maybe she could make the most of the time and get some answers out of this boy.

“So…” She bumped his hip with her own, and he startled kind of adorably. “Your mom’s a muse, huh? How does that work?”

“How it works for just about anything else,” he replied. “She visited my father one night when he needed inspiration, and nine months later I was born. From what I’m told she left me soon after I was old enough to stop nursing. I don’t really remember her at all. My father took care of me for a few years after that, and then one day he disappeared. I never figured out what happened to him.”

“Just like that?” she asked.

He nodded. “Just like that.”

“Then what happened?” Not that she was terribly interested for interest’s sake, but, well, she wanted to fill the time.

And maybe she was a _little_ interested.

“Gabriel took me in,” he said. “He was a friend of my mother’s, and he was always around even when my father was here. I guess it just made sense to him. I’ve lived with him ever since.”

“Well, he seems to have taken pretty good care of you.” She shot him a wink and was pleased despite herself to see him blush. “You said your mom visited your dad when he needed inspiration. What did he do, exactly?”

“Would you believe me if I told you he was a musician and a writer?” There was a wry smile on his lips, and she had to hide her genuine surprise.

“Where’ve you been hiding that sense of humor?” she asked him.

He seemed thrown by that question and, in fact, didn’t answer it. Instead, he said, “He was, though. A musician and a writer. I guess I had to get it from somewhere. Other than my mother, of course. And I guess that’s why I really want it to count for something. When you’re given a gift, it’s up to you to use it.”

She frowned and shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat, her fingertips brushing the soft petals of the wild rose she’d hidden away there after he went to sleep the night before. “Never really thought of it that way before.”

“Maybe you could learn to,” he said, and the small smile on his face told her that he was as earnest about that as he had so far appeared to be about everything else.

And for a split second, she believed him.

* * *

The next few days were spent in fervent preparation. Dean, Sam, Cassie, and Eileen practically lived in the tavern with Castiel and Meg, and they, along with everyone else who lived in town or otherwise frequented the establishment, not only made sure everything that Anna might see would be clean and presentable; they also made decorations and dressed up every building. When wanted (which, to be fair, was a lot), Castiel would play and sing for those at work. Meg mostly kept to the confines of the tavern, though she turned out to be quite handy with a knife, whittling out quick effigies for anyone who came needing offerings for their homes.

And Castiel was finding it all but impossible to slow the progression of his attachment to her.

For Meg’s part, she remained aloof and cool, even downright chilly when it came to Sam and Dean. She had warmed a bit to Cassie and Eileen, which was nice to see. But when it came to Castiel…he wasn’t sure just what to make of how she felt toward him.

Still, she had stayed this long. While he didn’t want to get his hopes up, it seemed she was trying to make good on her promise to him.

The tavern’s regular visitors, along with Castiel’s friends—and Meg—were putting the finishing touches on the dining room and the bar when Gabriel burst through the double doors, holding himself up high.

“Here she comes!”

The room flew into a frenzy but settled down quickly when the doors blew open again, this time bearing a woman who would have looked ordinary if not for the unnaturally vibrant red shade of her hair and the iridescent glow of her complexion. Wreathed in green floral patterns and lugging a large suitcase, she nevertheless carried herself like the queen she was, making her way down the path created when the crowd parted for her until she was in the middle of the room. She grinned at Castiel, who nodded respectfully in turn, and then faced the rest of the room.

“I suppose you’re all wondering where I’ve been,” she said, setting her suitcase on an unoccupied table.

“Yeah, no shit!” shouted Dean, and the woman laughed.

“Try to hell and back again,” she retorted, and the room slowly started coming to life again as more laughter began to resound in response. “But you know, my mama always said that if you’re not six feet under, you’d better be living it up. So let’s forget about the hard times. Poet!” she called back over her shoulder to Castiel, dragging that suitcase over to the bar with her and slinging it up on the countertop. From inside the case she withdrew several bottles of liquor and wine, along with the sweet scent of flowers and dew. “Pour the wine, boy. It’s summertime!”

And just as she’d spoken it, the bitter cold of winter that had permeated every square inch of the tavern disappeared, replaced with the humid heat of the warmer months. In his peripheral vision Castiel could see Meg gazing at the suitcase in wonderment as she hesitantly took off her coat, but before he could say anything to her, the favorite patron of this town whirled on her heel, holding one of the bottles aloft with a triumphant stance.

“Boys, girls, and what have you, Anna is _here_!”

With those words, Castiel knew they were in for a few months of good weather and prosperity.

With Meg by his side, he would be able to finish his song.

A smile on his face, he let the drinks begin to flow.


	5. Living It

Meg still wasn’t sure just what to make of everything that had happened here in Stull Junction in the weeks since she’d arrived here. First the gods were living amongst mortals (or at least some of them), then the guy she’d agreed to marry out of desperation and boredom turned out to be half-muse, and then she was finding herself…not attached, but definitely more and more intrigued by said guy every day.

For what it was worth, Cassie and Eileen had been more than willing to help her get acclimated to these strange surroundings. Though neither had been quite as helpful as Castiel himself.

Having taken to hanging out behind the bar regularly while Castiel working, this was precisely what Meg was doing when Dean, Sam, Cassie, and Eileen wandered in the morning after one of the wilder parties of the new summer. At the sight of all four rather disheveled, Meg couldn’t help but laugh.

“You guys look like you either had a really rough night or a really great night,” she quipped. “Or both.”

This observation made Castiel look up at his friends, and the way he tilted his head at them made Meg’s heart do a strange sort of flip in her chest.

“Both,” Dean groaned as he was the first to plop onto a stool at the bar. “Could definitely go for some coffee, black.”

“Dean, you know that’s the only kind of coffee we have right now,” Castiel said with a roll of his eyes, though Meg had learned this was a kind of routine of theirs. “Fresh cream won’t come in until tonight with the dandelion wine.”

“Dandelion wine?” Meg asked. There was still a lot about this town’s brand of summer she was learning.

“Anna’s specialty,” Castiel explained. “It’s difficult to describe if you’ve never had it.”

Meg shrugged. “Not much of a wine drinker at all, so I guess we’ll just have to see how that particular taste test goes.”

When he smiled like that, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking that the dandelion wine wasn’t the only thing she’d like to taste.

Of course, she’d wanted to kiss him since he’d revealed that magic voice of his, and then brought her up to his little apartment…and then declined to kiss her. But the urge had only gotten stronger and stronger the more she heard him talk, watched the nuances in his face, learned more about him, and if she didn’t actually _like_ him so damn much she might have given up on the whole endeavor and accepted that this might well be solely an engagement of convenience.

But she was determined to at least get that kiss. So she wasn’t giving up on him any time soon.

“Meg?” Cassie’s voice drew her out of her thoughts, and she realized she’d been staring at Castiel the entire time. Determined to play it cool, she merely slunk her way across the bar to where Cassie and Eileen were sitting.

Eileen started signing, and Meg picked up a few gestures but remained in the dark about what she was actually referring to.

“What about wedding preparations?” she asked, glancing between the two women.

“Have you started making any?” Cassie asked.

“Oh. No. Why? Should I?” Maybe that was playing it a little too cool.

Cassie saw right through it. She hopped off her stool, Eileen quickly following, and called out to Castiel, “Hey, we’re gonna borrow your woman for a bit!”

Looking endearingly confused as ever, the poet looked up from where he was talking to Sam and Dean. “For what?”

“Girl time,” Eileen said aloud, and that seemed to be enough of an answer for Castiel.

As the three ambled along the streets of town, Meg found herself looking around at everything. Summertime had really come out in full force, with the very buildings that lined the roads seeming to burst with color, the green treetops peeking out behind them, the atmosphere flooded with light and a dancing breeze. She’d never seen anything quite like it; all the previous summers she’d seen weren’t as kind or picturesque. Maybe it was because this was where Anna was, and now it was acting as a kind of nexus of good weather.

She didn’t have much time to think about it, mostly because Cassie was getting right down to almost an interrogation.

“So, just when are you two gonna tie the knot?”

“Pardon?” Meg raised an eyebrow.

“You said you and Castiel were getting married in the summer,” Eileen supplied helpfully. “So he’d have time to work on his song.”

“Right,” Meg said slowly, kicking a stray pebble out of their way as they followed the path toward the outskirts of the town to where all they could see was green. It was the way she’d come in, she realized. And somehow it had completely transformed. “Well, the whole thing was kind of Castiel’s idea. So I’m just waiting for him to be ready. Don’t wanna push him into it.”

“Hmm,” said Cassie, though Meg got the feeling she wasn’t entirely satisfied with that answer.

To keep the discussion from going further down that path she wasn’t yet ready to think about, Meg changed the subject. “You know, I’ve known you girls for weeks, but I don’t know much about how you got here. Or anything like that.”

“The way we got here wasn’t really any different than you,” Cassie replied. “We blew into town looking for food and shelter, and we just haven’t really left. We just had the privilege of running into each other on our way in. Once we found out this place was different from just about anywhere else, we just…stayed.”

“And you’ve never felt like you needed to leave?” Meg asked, dumbfounded. “Ever?”

There was silence as Cassie shook her head, then signed the question to Eileen since Meg hadn’t been facing her well enough for lip reading.

“No,” said Eileen. “We’re happy here. It’s not much, but we have just enough. Food, shelter, people we love.”

“Have you felt like you need to leave?” Cassie asked Meg, her expression piercing.

Meg thought about Castiel’s smile. “No. Not yet.”

* * *

The bar was a whirlwind as the town’s citizens all gathered, rearranging tables to their hearts’ content. Tonight was the first big feast of the summer. Ordinarily Castiel would be helping to make those preparations, too, but tonight Gabriel had set him on the task of simply sitting on a stool and playing his guitar, occasionally singing one of the pastoral folk songs he was so well known for in Stull Junction. It certainly kept everyone’s spirits high, and before long, the entire tavern was set up for the biggest dinner party anyone had known since winter began. Anna would be here before long, and the real fun would begin.

From where he was sitting, he could see Meg as she finished making arrangements in the dining room with Cassie, Eileen, Dean, and Sam; as hard as he tried not to stare, it was nigh impossible when she was so captivating doing even the most basic of things.

She did catch him watching her, though, and he caught a fleeting glimpse of her grin as she did.

“Hey,” said a voice to his side; Castiel startled, nearly dropping his guitar. He hadn’t even realized Sam had moved from those proceedings to stand by him. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, re-situating the guitar on his lap and continuing to strum. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Sam said, putting his hands in his threadbare pockets. “It’s just…I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way I see you looking at Meg. I mean, I know Dean and I are only in town for the summer these days, but…” There was nothing judgmental in his tone, just observational. And…perhaps even a little proud. “She’s really something special to you, isn’t she?”

Looking back up at Meg, Castiel sighed softly and nodded. “I don’t know what it is about her, but…yes. She is.”

Sam nodded, too. “I’m happy for you, man. I am. We don’t all get that on the first try. I just…with the way the world is…”

“We’ll be fine,” Castiel said simply, still strumming. “I’m going to change the world to one where we won’t have to struggle. It’s right around the corner. I can feel it in my fingertips when I play, and I can taste it on my tongue when I sing. We won’t end that way.”

That way, of course, being the way Dean and Benny had gone. They’d been together one summer, too, but when winter came, Benny left, never to be seen again. They’d all had their suspicions about where he’d gone, but none wanted to say it aloud, and to this day Dean refused to discuss the matter.

“If you’re sure,” Sam said slowly, “then you’re sure. We could all use that kind of hope, I think.”

As he walked away, Castiel’s brow furrowed in contemplation. He didn’t get much time to do deep thinking, however, for almost at that moment Anna strode in the door, suitcase in tow just as when she’d arrived, although tonight it looked much less heavy. The crowd immediately burst into applause, and as Anna pulled out her chair, Gabriel emerged from the back room and clapped his hands.

A glorious spread materialized on the gathered tables, one fit for the gods themselves, overflowing with the fruit of the land that had grown because Anna came, cups filled full with that dandelion wine they’d all waited so long for.

Before anyone could sit down and partake, Gabriel took one of the cups and raised it high. “Now, before we all dig in like absolute heathens…” The crowd chuckled. “…I say we raise a toast. Castiel! Why don’t you bless this round?”

Someone handed Castiel a cup, and despite being put on the spot, everyone’s smiling faces on him gave him the rush he needed to stand there on his platform, cup raised high in the air like Gabriel’s. Well, it was more like one smiling face in particular.

His voice carrying through the tavern, Castiel called out, “To Anna, who continues to provide us with all we’ll ever need, who’s finally come back to us to fill us up with her blessings.” The crowd voiced their agreement, and so he continued. “We thank her for asking nothing in return from us except that we live as brothers in this life, for it’s the only one we have, and that we trust in her. And that we never take too much, so there’ll always be enough. She’ll keep filling our cups, and we’ll keep raising them up to her.” Gazing around, he caught Meg’s eye. “To the world we dream about and the one we live in now.”

He drank down the dandelion wine, rich, sweet, and earthy, and passed it off to his neighbor, then kept playing his guitar with more vigor than before. As everyone rose to their feet and began to dance, he could have lost himself in that music. But he was pulled out of that rapture when Meg approached, something in her expression strange.

“Hey,” she said. “I wanna talk to you about something. But we can’t do it here.”

He thought he understood, so he set his guitar down on his stool. It continued to play that jaunty tune, so no one so much as looked their way as they stole out of the tavern and into the balmy night.

Meg was quiet as they strolled to the edge of town, but it wasn’t until they reached the grassy hill that led down to the riverbank (dried up before but now running freely) that Castiel felt the need to clear up just what it was they needed to discuss. “Is there something wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. I mean, not with you. But with me…yeah, there’s so much wrong.”

He tilted his head, confused. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

She sighed, then was quiet again for a long moment. He kept following her, though, all the way to the riverbank, waiting for her to be ready to speak. He’d wait for her for as long as it took, he realized.

“Look,” she said at last, though she didn’t look at him. “I don’t normally do this, okay? I don’t normally stick around in one place this long, and I definitely don’t promise other people that I will. I was by myself for so long, and I was fine with that. I scraped by. I survived. And that was all I ever knew. But I didn’t realize just how _lonely_ that was—how lonely _I_ was—until I stumbled on this town and met you. And now, I…” Only now did she turn to face him, and her expression was one bordering on anguish. “I’m sick of being lonely. And I like you, Cas. And I don’t wanna let you go. Somehow, you’ve managed that.”

She scoffed a laugh, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle.

For his part, he was stunned. He’d been surprised enough when she’d agreed to stay with him, to marry him, but now she was telling him she really wanted to. That she liked him.

It lifted his heart in a way he’d never thought possible.

“I like you, too,” he said, and though that much he was fairly certain was obvious, he was ready to follow it up. “I don’t know why it’s me that you’ve decided to hold onto, but I do know that I’m honored. And that I knew the second I saw you that you’d be it for me, even though I didn’t know you yet. Even though, in many ways, I still don’t know you, I feel like I’ve known you all along, and like I’ll never grow tired of getting to know you.”

She stared at him for a long moment, that oddly pained look still on her face, and as she was so still, he realized that they had stopped walking. At long last, she muttered, “Damn it,” closed the distance between them, and pulled him down so that her lips could find his.

His eyes grew wide at first, and he froze. She was kissing him. And he was letting her. And he liked it. That realization let him melt into it, his eyes falling shut and his arms wrapping around her. In that moment, he felt as though he was holding the world.

She guided him through this kiss and every kiss that followed with her lips and her tongue, and he could feel her hands making their way up and down his back, as if she were so overwhelmed that she didn’t know where to even begin to hold him, and he honestly felt the same way, even as they sank onto the plush grass, cocooned by the ground and the sky, the rushing of the river and music of the crickets filling their ears; even as sensations he’d never thought possible overtook him and clouded his mind till all he was sure of was her.

“Meg,” he whispered.

“I got you,” she replied.

* * *

The warm dampness of the night kept the sweat from cooling completely on their skins, but somehow Meg was all right with that. In a way, it helped to remind her that all of this was real.

She’d done this before, of course, with other men and women she’d met along her way, but only when she could get something out of it. Never had she given herself to someone just because, and never had that someone been as sweet as Castiel had proven himself to be. He’d needed a little coaching, but his enthusiasm made up for his lack of experience, and overall, she was something more than satisfied.

If the way he remained curled up by her side with his fingertips tracing patterns across her ribs and her breasts and his lips ghosting over her shoulder was any indication, so was he.

Deep down in a part of her she’d long thought dead, she could feel this _like_ growing into something a little more, too.

But she couldn’t just let that go unchecked, she thought, trying very hard to be sensible, which was difficult whenever she glanced down at him, his muscular frame thrown into stark relief in the moonlight, his eyes on hers positively adoring. It was becoming too much to handle.

So, without any word of warning, she sat up, drawing her knees up to her chest, refusing to look at him.

She could feel his change in energy from contented to concerned, though whether it was part of his muse half or if she was just becoming that attuned to him she couldn’t say. “What is it?” His low voice was even huskier, and it took every ounce of her self control not to completely forget being something as overrated as sensible.

“Castiel…” She turned her gaze skyward, watching the stars twinkling above them, their only real witnesses. “Promise me you’ll hold me forever. And that the wind won’t change. And that we’ll stay together no matter what the world throws at us, and that it’ll always be like this.”

The feeling of his arms around her made all her muscles go lax, as if she were basking in the sun. “I promise I’ll hold you forever,” he whispered. “And that the wind won’t change. And that we’ll stay together no matter what the world throws at us, and that it’ll always be like this.”

Despite her more reasonable self, she believed him. And so she shifted in his arms to look at him, admiring him for a few seconds before her demeanor turned just as coy as it had been the day they met and she kissed him again, reaching between them as they fell into the grass again, ready to consummate that promise again and again until the sun came up with the new morning.


	6. Lovers' Desire

Castiel and Meg’s return to the tavern was, just as their departure had been, virtually unnoticed, only this time it was because almost everyone had gone home. The only people left were Sam and Dean, looking nearly as untidy as Castiel suspected he must have, talking low over their remaining drinks. As far as he could tell, Cassie and Eileen had taken their leave for the night.

Meg made a motion indicating that they should remain quiet, so as not to attract the brothers’ attention. Castiel didn’t think that was such a bad idea.

For a brief moment, as they tiptoed their way up the old stairs to the little apartment above the tavern, Castiel thought he saw one of the brother’s heads turn just slightly in their direction, but he quickly wrote it off as being primarily a product of his imagination and nothing more.

At last, they made it all the way up. Castiel let Meg inside first, then swiftly followed, shutting the door behind him almost silently.

He wasn’t sure what to expect from Meg after not only what had happened tonight by the river but also their near-miss sneaking around on their journey back, but he knew that it wasn’t the peal of breathless giggles she let out. He tilted his head, a soft smile on his face, his own laughter tickling just at the base of his throat.

“What’s funny?” he finally asked, having been a little too entranced with her for a moment to remember how his voice worked.

She turned her sparkling, dark eyes on him, still wearing a smile that wasn’t half as sly as when they’d met. “I don’t know,” she said, and he had every inclination that she was being honest. “I guess I’m just…happy. Didn’t think I ever would be. So…thanks for that.”

He was so stunned by that admission—by the notion that he could bring joy to a girl who’d known nothing in all her life but misery thus far—that he hardly noticed her advancing toward him again until she was already directly in front of him. “I’m happy, too,” he said, not knowing what else he even _could_ say. “That is, before you, there was nobody I thought could make me feel this way, and now…”

“I know.” She nodded sagely, one soft hand coming up to gently cup the back of his neck. “You’re all a-flutter.”

“Exactly,” he said. Somehow, despite his gift with words, she seemed to have an even greater knack for finishing them at times.

“You know…” Now her eyebrow was raised, and that mischievous expression she’d worn as they lay together in the grass returned. “I could always make you feel even better than that.”

He didn’t have time to ask her how before she was standing on her tiptoes and kissing him once more, though he was beginning to get an idea of the answer to that question. And he actually rather liked that answer. So he let her drag him over to the tiny bed, ready to get lost in her once more.

* * *

The sun as it fell across her eyelids was how Meg woke up that morning, and had woken up the past few weeks. Also consistent with the last few weeks was the solid sensation of Castiel’s body against her back, his strong arm wound around her waist, as if that alone would keep her safe from all that their world had to throw at them. She was beginning to believe that it really could, too.

While at first he had gotten up before her, she soon discovered that he enjoyed just lying beside her in the mornings. Not watching her, he’d said, but just absorbing her presence. He said it provided inspiration for his poetry. She’d found it kind of strange at first, but she’d come to like it. Who would have thought she’d become a muse for a young man who was literally part muse himself?

The summer heat was starting to come to its peak, too, and while Meg found it preferable to the bitter cold of winter, it was also becoming a bit cloying for her tastes. Maybe it was because of the much more direct presence of the goddess of the season herself, which Meg was still finding it a little difficult to wrap her head around. Luckily whenever that happened she had Castiel to ground her.

She shifted a little as she lay in groggy half-sleep, too comfortable in her lover’s arms to get up but not comfortable enough to ignore the too-warm light streaming in through the window. Had the sun provided this much heat yesterday?

Castiel shifting behind her made her grunt a little, least of all because he was so warm, now, too. She knew he was awake, though, and she knew that she was perfectly free to grumble and complain.

“Too hot,” she mumbled, hiding her face in the little, collapsed pillow.

“Thank you,” he replied, and she grinned despite herself. He’d gotten quick with those sorts of comebacks, and she was proud to know that she had a hand in it. “But Meg…feel how warm the sun is now. Do you know what day it is?”

What did the sun have to do with what day it was? And why was he making her think about such things right now? In response, she merely grunted, rolling onto her stomach, deep down hoping the sight of her bare skin, particularly the dip in her spine just above her backside as the thin blanket slipped down her body, might entice him to simply stay in bed with her. When she felt his fingertips there, she thought it might have worked. She should have known better.

All he did was lean over her and whisper, “It’s midsummer.”

Midsummer. Their wedding day.

Granted, Meg still wasn’t sure exactly what that entailed—she’d never witnessed a wedding, though she’d heard that they were a common occurrence once upon a time—but the reminder still sent a shiver through her, the likes of which she’d never known until she met him. This man who’d proven himself nothing short of incredible in so many ways, who would tonight be her husband.

She’d never felt quite so like a young girl before.

The grin she wore as she rolled onto her back, stretching languidly like a cat and kicking the sheet down to her feet to reveal the length of her body to him in the morning sun, was coquettish, though that expression quickly became soured when she saw that he’d averted his eyes the second she shifted position. “What’s the matter, Cas? It’s not like you’ve never seen this before.” And, judging from the way he was arranging the sheet over his lap as he sat up, it wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate the view.

“It’s our wedding day,” he said, as if she hadn’t realized yet. “We should be spending it preparing ourselves, mentally, spiritually, and physically.”

“Well…” She scooted up to sit beside him, letting her fingers trail slowly down his firm torso. “What better way to physically prepare, _husband_?”

“I’m not your husband yet,” he reminded her, though even he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “That will be tonight.”

“I know that,” she said as she sneaked her hand under the sheet. “But I don’t see the harm in a little preview…”

She was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. If it was Gabriel, he would have known to simply leave them alone before he even got close. Which meant it could only be…

“Hey!” Dean’s voice rang through the door. “I know you two are up. There’d better not be any fooling around happening in there.”

“There’s been fooling around happening in here every morning and every night for _weeks_ , Deano,” Meg called teasingly, fully aware of just how flustered Castiel must be at the moment. Just to make it a little worse for him, she slung her leg over his waist and straddled him, settling on his lap in just the right way and giving him a lingering kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close at once, so he certainly didn’t mind as much as he was pretending he did.

Through the haze that kissing Castiel always brought, she heard Dean say, “Wait, _every_ morning and night?” Thankfully, that was when Sam interrupted with an infuriatingly reasonable argument. “It’s not that we don’t want you two to…uh…enjoy each other, but we do have to get Cas downstairs to start getting him ready. Gabriel says it’ll take all day and there’s no time to waste on it. Same for you, Meg. Cassie and Eileen will be here soon.”

Meg groaned dramatically and flopped off of Cas and onto her side, but she knew they were right. She was actually… _excited_ about this. Excited about getting married. For once, something good had not only come to her, it had stuck around.

Well, technically, she came to that something good, but that was beside the point.

She glanced at Castiel and found him watching her fondly with that sweet haplessness that, mere weeks ago, had made her wonder if she shouldn’t flee lest she be trapped here forever. Now she wouldn’t mind being trapped here. She did like him an awful lot, after all.

Clearly, he liked her an awful lot, too.

“I have to go,” he said, his voice impossibly soft. “But I’ll see you tonight.”

“You’d better,” she teased, though deep down she couldn’t help but be touched that he was trying to reassure her on today of all days.

As she watched him go and watched Cassie and Eileen come in and begin primping and preparing her for the evening to come, it struck her that “like” wasn’t the right word at all.

* * *

Castiel wasn’t nervous. Not when Gabriel suited him up in clothes that were probably the nicest he’d ever worn, though they were still noticeably old and used. Not when Sam and Dean tidied him up and playfully ribbed him about having a ball and chain (which didn’t make sense to him, since now that he was with Meg, Cas had never felt more free). And not when the three of them all coached him on the vows and led him out to the fields and down to the riverbank, even though it was the exact place he and Meg first made love and he ought to have been embarrassed. He had a feeling Gabriel knew that detail somehow, anyway. Gabriel knew everything.

As they stood there on the banks, Gabriel adjusted Castiel’s suit and tried to fix his hair, though Cas was aware that it would only continue to be messy no matter what anyone tried to do with it. “You ready for this, Cas?”

“Of course I am,” Castiel replied, certain in his heart. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

“Yeah, that was what I was afraid you’d say.” Gabriel gave him a smile that seemed to hold some kind of secret, but before Castiel could ask him what was wrong, his foster father seemed to sense the question and cut him off. “Here she comes. Don’t look till she gets up here.”

It was a small ceremony. Just him and Meg, Dean and Sam, and Cassie and Eileen once they arrived. He could have invited the whole small town, and they would have accepted, but that was the problem. He didn’t want to inadvertently enchant people to be at his wedding. He wanted only his true friends. It was something he knew Meg appreciated.

Speaking of Meg, she was here beside him now. He felt her presence before he saw her, though he wasn’t sure how he had developed the ability to do so. But she was there. And so he turned to see her, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. He wasn’t sure what exactly made the threadbare white dress and simple crown of flowers look so breathtaking, but the only explanation he had was that Meg was wearing it, and she was wearing it to marry him. Suddenly his heart was in his throat.

Distantly, he heard Gabriel speaking, welcoming the friends he and Meg had brought and thanking Anna for the beautiful day on which this marriage was taking place, blessing nature for providing the wellspring that the union would mirror despite a world that worked against everyone in it. But all Castiel could actively do was stare at Meg.

She smiled at him, and in a way it was nearly shy, the same way she had been the last time they were here, and that reassured him. They were in this together.

Finally, Gabriel bid him to speak. Castiel cleared his throat and let his voice and his words do the work for him.

“Megaera, I didn’t know what to expect when you wandered into the tavern that night. I wasn’t expecting such an incredible girl to pay me any attention. And I definitely wasn’t expecting that incredible girl to agree to stay and marry a stranger. But she did, and here we are, and I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. You’ve changed everything, Meg. And I can’t wait to continue to learn all about you for the rest of my life.”

Meg seemed shaken by that, but not in the unnerved way she was when she met. No, it was as though she simply had to find her voice again. “Castiel, I didn’t know what to expect either when a complete stranger asked me to come home with him. But it definitely wasn’t for me to come to like him, or to want him in my life. But I do want you in my life. And every day, I want to know more about you, too. I’m glad I get the opportunity to do that. For so long there was nothing good in my life, and then…there was you.”

Castiel’s vision was misty now; when he realized what it was, he blinked away the tears in his eyes.

There were no resources for rings, not yet, though he had promised her wedding bands of gold when they met. But that would come with the spring. For now, Gabriel produced two strips of cloth that Cas and Meg bound around each other’s wrists. Now was time for the vows. And Castiel had never felt so right saying anything else.

“Megaera, I promise to love, respect, protect, and trust you. I promise to give you the best of myself, because I know that together we will build a life far better than either of us could imagine alone. I choose you. I’ll choose you over and over and over again, and I’ll keep choosing you.”

Meg nodded, and Cas thought he saw wetness in the corners of her eyes, too, though it was gone as quickly as it came. “Castiel, I promise to love, respect, protect, and trust you. I promise to give you the best of myself, because I know that together we will build a life far better than either of us could imagine alone. I choose you. I’ll choose you over and over and over again, and I’ll keep choosing you.”

Love. It was the first time either of them had said it. But Castiel meant it. And he trusted that Meg meant it, too.

“By the power vested in me,” Gabriel was saying, “by the universe itself, I now pronounce these two husband and wife. You may kiss. Come on, I know you want to.”

And so Cas did, meeting Meg right in the middle, and nothing had ever felt so right.

Together, they would weather even the toughest storms.

Together, they would change the world.


End file.
